


You're Not With Him

by pippinmctaggart



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Challenge Response, First Kiss, M/M, Realization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-15
Updated: 2004-10-15
Packaged: 2018-03-31 09:15:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3972427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippinmctaggart/pseuds/pippinmctaggart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Challenge #24 at <span class="ljuser i-ljuser i-ljuser-type-C"></span><a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="http://lotrpschallenge.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://lotrpschallenge.livejournal.com/"><b>lotrpschallenge</b></a>.</p><p>Heartfelt thanks to <span class="ljuser i-ljuser i-ljuser-type-P"></span><a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="http://the-larch.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://the-larch.livejournal.com/"><b>the_larch</b></a> for the beta.</p>
    </blockquote>





	You're Not With Him

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Challenge #24 at [](http://lotrpschallenge.livejournal.com/profile)[**lotrpschallenge**](http://lotrpschallenge.livejournal.com/).
> 
> Heartfelt thanks to [](http://the-larch.livejournal.com/profile)[**the_larch**](http://the-larch.livejournal.com/) for the beta.

 

Dom was annoyed.

Not punch-Billy’s-lights-out-annoyed, but definitely edging towards jab-Billy-with-a-sharp-elbow annoyed.

No matter which way Dom turned while he danced with Elijah, there was Billy—seemingly just dancing, swaying and writhing to the loud music just like everyone else in the club, but...

But.

He was _always watching Dom_.

Dom pulled Elijah closer, perversely wanting Billy to see him rub up against Elijah’s tight little arse, to see Elijah reach back and grab Dom’s arse with both hands. If Billy wanted to watch, let him get an eyeful, dammit.

Elijah turned then and drove his pelvis against Dom’s, and for a few moments Dom forgot all about Billy, lost instead in grinding against Elijah’s sharp hip. But when he threw his head back and looked at Elijah from under heavy lids, his eyes were immediately drawn back to Billy, dancing a few feet away, once again staring straight at Dom.

Now Dom was _really_ annoyed.

He dipped in and kissed Elijah hotly, wetly and very messily, tongues and saliva evident to anyone within ten feet. And then he pulled away, left Elijah dancing by himself, knowing Elijah would just shrug and turn to find someone else to rub against. Dom marched over to Billy, and right in Billy’s face, shouting over the music, demanded, “What the fuck is your problem, Boyd?”

Billy’s eyes were deep and disquieting and nearly colourless in the darkness, shadowing to black under the blue red yellow green flaring lights that circled and swept the crowd on the tiny dance floor. Dom protested when Billy grabbed his left wrist, the snaps on his leather cuff digging in as Billy hauled him out of the heaving mass of bodies around them, but he knew it wasn’t loud enough to carry. He decided to allow Billy to lead him, pull him to a dark corner as far away from the music as they could get. He even allowed Billy to shove him backwards, up against a blessedly cool cement wall, chilling his sweat-soaked t-shirt.

But when Billy leaned in, his body not touching Dom’s but his face only inches away, and wordlessly stared at him again, Dom had had enough. “Boyd, if you don’t tell me what the hell your problem is right now, I’m fucking leaving,” he challenged, but obviously the dry air and the yelling had gotten to him, because his voice cracked.

Billy’s eyes dropped to Dom’s lips, hovered there as Dom involuntarily, nervously licked them. His mouth suddenly dry, Dom thought the heat of the dance floor had also gotten to him, because he felt a little lightheaded, especially when he felt warm damp air stir against his lips, and he wondered distractedly why Billy was breathing so hard, especially when for the first time in a long series of nights out Dom couldn’t smell whisky on his breath.

“Billy, what the fuck, man,” he tried again. “I’m here with Elijah, what the hell are you doing?” He wasn’t sure why he was saying that, just that he needed to take the edge off whatever it was that was happening.

Still staring at Dom’s mouth, all Billy said was a hard, “No, you’re not.”

“What do you mean no, I’m not?” Dom protested. He wondered why his voice sounded quite so squeaky. “You know Elijah and I came here together. I’m here with _him_ , so would you mind—“

Billy’s eyes flicked up to Dom’s to skewer him against the wall, to steal his breath and stop whatever it was he was saying, and Dom suddenly couldn’t even remember what that was. Billy’s voice was low but Dom heard every word as he said, “Elijah is with you. But you’re not with him.”

“What—what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dom asked, an odd and inexplicable hitch in his breath.

“You’re not with him.” Billy’s eyes dropped to Dom’s lips again, and his voice roughened. “You’re with me, Dom. You always have been.  You’ve been looking at me, checking to see if I’m watching you, _performing_ for me. And I can’t do this anymore. You’re with me, Dom, and the question is, why haven’t you come to me? Did you really not realize it—or are you just scared?”

Dom’s mouth opened, but no sound came out, and his brain whirled with a thousand fractured thoughts.

And then suddenly Billy’s mouth was on his, kissing him softly, much more gently than Dom would have expected—if he’d expected this at all—given his hard words and rough voice. Dom’s eyes fluttered closed with no input from him at all, and his world reduced itself to where Billy touched him, hands tight on his biceps and soft, dry lips caressing as much as kissing his own. Dom felt how warm they were, how small and firm and smooth, and part of his brain surprised him by thinking how they felt exactly like he’d thought they would feel, and he hadn’t even been aware he _had_ thought how Billy’s lips would feel.

Quicksilver sparks jumped the synapses in Dom’s brain when abruptly the kiss changed, and Billy was crushing his mouth onto Dom’s, driving his mouth against Dom’s so hard that Dom’s teeth dug into his lips until, the moment before he would have tasted blood, his mouth opened beneath the onslaught. He felt the stubble on Billy’s chin scrape his own clean-shaven skin as Billy’s tongue plunged into his mouth, and the slick, slippery heat overran Dom’s senses as Billy’s small, smooth tongue swept across his own, teased his own with a hot wet slide before suddenly retreating. Without thought, with only need and want and heat pooling low in his abdomen, Dom followed, gave in to Billy’s tempting and seductive kiss and thrust his own tongue after Billy’s, chasing seeking finding twining around Billy’s even as his arms rose to twine around Billy’s neck.

And then Billy was pulling away, leaving Dom feeling cold and empty and dissatisfied, and Dom opened his eyes, expanding his world outward again. He lifted his gaze to meet Billy’s piercing stare, was struck dumb by the desire, pain, and emotion he saw there.

“Do you know why I’m not touching you, Dom?” Billy asked, his voice gravelly. “Why I’m not leaning against you?”

Dom shook his head.

“I know you’re hard—I watched _Elijah_ make you hard. But I’m fucking hard too, and you did that to me, you _do_ that to me, and I want you to feel how hard I am, Dominic,” Billy ground out with a rush, “Go on, feel me, put your hand on me, see what you do to me, see how much I want you.” He grabbed one of Dom’s hands and pressed the palm against the hard ridge in his jeans.

Dom groaned, tightened his grip, felt his thighs tremble as Billy sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth and slapped a desperate hand against the cement wall for support.

“Billy—“

“God, Dom—“

Their simultaneous moans left Dom in a sudden sweat, but seemed to bring Billy back to himself, bring him a measure of control that he’d been on the verge of losing. He canted his hips back, away from the pressure of Dom’s hand, and his fingers loosed the collar of his black shirt from around his neck.

“You see how much I want you, Dom?” he asked roughly. “Now the question is—do you want _me_? Because I don’t think I’ve been wrong in what I’ve seen in you. Have I?”

Dom found himself looking at Billy’s eyes, and he thought maybe _he’d_ been wrong. Billy hadn’t simply been staring at him—he’d been willing Dom to open his eyes and see what had been right in front of him all along. To realize what he’d wanted all along. Billy had been inviting him this whole time, and he’d been too scared of it, of it failing, of Billy not being serious, to let himself even admit it was there.

With a start he realized Billy was still waiting for an answer. “Yes. Yes, Billy, I want you,” he managed. He reached for Billy’s hips and tugged him in, pulled Billy right up against himself so there was no mistaking it. “This isn’t Elijah. This is you.” Dom held Billy tightly and pressed his erection against Billy’s hip. “I want you.”

But Billy wrenched away, until once again it was only his hands on Dom’s arms pinning him to the wall, and his face near Dom’s, nearly nose to nose. “ _What_ do you want, Dom? Just a quick blowjob in the alley? A casual fuck for a few months? Because if that’s all, go back to Elijah, go find your little plaything—“

The bitterness in his voice shocked Dom, but it explained the pain he’d seen earlier in Billy’s eyes. He looked at those eyes now, still nearly black in the dim light and in the slightly bloodshot whites around them, his own flicking back and forth between them as he rapidly assessed, double-checked what he thought he wanted—because if it was anything less than complete, he’d better spare them both further torment by walking away now. But…

But.

It _was_ complete.

Dom raised his arms to cup Billy’s face with both hands. “’Lijah and I tease each other, play with each other a bit, because we’ve both been so fucking lonely here. It’s never been more than that, Bill,” he said clearly, earnestly, deadly serious. “What do I want? I want this.” And he dropped his eyes to Billy’s mouth, watched Billy’s delicately curved lips part slightly as he drew in a shuddering breath. Dom kept his gaze on those dusky pink-tinged lips as he moved closer, taking a small step in towards Billy, saw them lift a fraction toward his own just before he gently kissed Billy.

Dom kept his touch light, asking rather than demanding, offering instead of taking. He parted his lips to better feel, taste, cover Billy’s, keeping his tongue to himself, and he was surprised by the flutter in his stomach that he hadn’t felt at a first kiss since he was seventeen. Because really, this was their first real kiss—not that desperate, needy, near-battle they’d had a few minutes ago. This, this kiss of affection and desire and the suggestion of everything that could be, this was the one that mattered.

Suddenly assailed by doubt, Dom pulled his mouth from Billy’s, kept his eyes downcast as he asked, his voice so low he could barely be heard over the distant music, “Is this—this _is_ what you meant, isn’t it, Billy?”

Billy’s hand came up to rest on the side of Dom’s head, his thumb stroking Dom’s cheekbone. But his only answer was to lean back in and place his lips on Dom’s, his own slightly parted, and softly kiss Dom the way he’d been kissed the moment before.

Dom’s world—rather than shrinking to pinpoints of Billy’s skin on his—expanded to encompass all of himself, all of Billy, everything that touched him set his nerve endings coruscating like all the current in the universe was sparking between them, and he softly moaned into Billy’s mouth. At that, at the sound vibration heat of Dom moaning into his mouth, Billy’s hands stopped pinning him against the black cement wall and instead curled around him, his arms enfolded Dom and Dom knew.

 _Knew_.

“Billy.” Dom murmured against his lips, then slowly smoothed kisses along his jaw to his ear. “Come home with me. Or take me to your place.” He nuzzled his nose against Billy’s cheek.

Billy’s arms tightened around him. “And then what?” His voice was low, gentle, calm for the first time in ages, but Dom knew his answer was important to Billy.

But before he could give that answer, they heard a loud laugh behind them, and Dom froze, knowing that laugh without needing to see who it was. Billy stepped back, tension in every line of his body. “Elijah. Please—“ Dom began.

But the smile on Elijah’s face was genuine. “About fucking time, too. Stupid fuckers.” And he moved forward to take Dom’s face between his hands and firmly kiss his cheek. When he turned to Billy, Billy automatically recoiled, but Elijah grabbed him, pulled him back in, and gave him the same fond treatment. “It’s all right, Billy,” he said quietly in his ear, his voice sounding pleased. “Dom’s affections weren’t with me. I knew that, even if he didn’t.”

Billy looked into his eyes, nearly navy in the dark corner. “And yours?”

“Elsewhere,” Elijah said succinctly, tinged with bitterness. He stepped back and loudly said, “I’m off for another drink. I’ll get a cab home, Dom, so don’t wait for me.” And he was gone.

Dom twined his fingers into Billy’s shirt and tugged him closer. “You hear that? I don’t have to wait for him. Take me home, Billy.”

Searching Dom’s eyes, Billy repeated his earlier question. “And then what?”

Dom smiled, leaned his forehead against Billy’s. “And then kiss me.”


End file.
